Because of the Money
by TabbyCat33098
Summary: Sherlock uses John as a stand-in for the victim in an attempt to recreate the crime scene after they've been kicked out. Dialogue!fic, rated for themes. Horrible attempt at mystery inside.


A/N: Feeling rather sick today, attempted a murder mystery anyway. I actually wanted to try out a dialogue!fic, but it went in a completely different direction than I wanted it to go in. Oh well. This is the fic in which we realize Tabby can't write a mystery to save her life. I'm sure there are plot holes and the characterization is total shite, but I tried and hopefully it turned out decent. Couldn't think of a title, so I chose something random. Dedicated to Brainy, she's amazing and I love her. Happy reading!

* * *

**Because of the Money**

"Sherlock, I can't feel my arms."

"Mm."

"No, Sherlock, I'm serious. I can't feel my arms."

"Mm. Just one moment, John."

"Sherlock, _take the bloody cuffs off_."

"John, there are lives at stake here. Would you like the murderer to have another chance at killing someone because you couldn't handle a bit of discomfort? You're a surgeon; you've taken that Oath, the hippo one."

"What, the Hippocratic Oath? That only applies to medicine! And this isn't just a 'bit of discomfort,' I've been in this position for three bloody hours! Besides, we both know you've got the crime scene memorized. You don't need to recreate it."

"Two hours forty-seven minutes seventeen seconds, to be more precise. Yes, but we were kicked out before I could get a hold of all the data. Besides, I can't manipulate my mental landscape as easily as I can manipulate you. Lean forward a bit, would you? Mm, yes, that's good."

"How- No, you know what, I'm not even going to ask. Why am I leaning forward?"

"The collar around the victim's throat. It was chained to the headboard but removed later. Tiny scuff marks on the posts. The killer couldn't have gotten it there without getting the victim to lean forward. So a short recap. The killer forced the victim to strip down to only his underwear."

"Stop looking at me like that, Sherlock. I'm not going to do it."

"Fine. The killer then chained and cuffed the victim to the bed and began his depravities. All the while, the victim did nothing to fight back or resist in any way, which suggests that the victim found nothing unusual about this. Clearly, the killer was someone close to the victim. His wife, perhaps? Another sexual partner?"

"Sherlock, I'm starting to lose feeling in my legs."

"But neither the victim nor his wife showed any inclination towards bondage. The wife's hysterics and disgust proved that when Lestrade talked to her, and they did not have any previous bondage implements stored anywhere in the house. Which suggest a mistress was involved. But why?"

"Sherlock, I swear to God, if you don't release me _this instant_, I will tell Lestrade where you've been hiding your cocaine."

"Shut up, John, I'm trying to think!"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"I'm sorry, that was out of turn."

"Damn right that was out of turn! I want out of these cuffs _now_."

"Yes, yes, hold on."

"Damn it Sherlock! Are you even listening?"

"He wasn't rich, so it couldn't have been for the money. It couldn't have been love, either- oh!"

"Oh? Oh what, Sherlock?'

"The wife! It was the wife all along! Oh, she was clever. I almost didn't see it."

"See what? _What?_"

"It was always about the money! I'm not sure how, I'll have to access the medical records, but he had quite a sizable life insurance policy in place. The wife stood to make a tidy profit from it were he to die. Things were going downhill for them: they were running out of money, he'd lost his job, she was working two shifts already, and everything she brought in he spent on alcohol and prostitutes. She grew sick of it, seduced him when he was a little tipsy, and persuaded him to try something edgy. Perhaps their sex life had been lacking, perhaps he was simply under the influence of alcohol, but he agreed. She chained him up, killed him while he was still in a post-coitus state, discarded the bondage implements she had bought for the occasion, and called in later. Her talents are being wasted, I'll say. She would make a damn good actress. I must inform that idiot of a Detective Inspector, Dimmock, he won't want to learn of it by text. I'll be back soon, make yourself comfortable!"

"Sherlock, at least uncuff me before you leave! Sherlock!"

"..."

"Damn it."

**FIN**


End file.
